


Lemonade

by missberryisbest



Series: ~Fluff for Maf~ [7]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, M/M, Only One Bed, fluffy fluff fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 21:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missberryisbest/pseuds/missberryisbest
Summary: El and him had always had a relationship with a lot of casual touch, which Q appreciated. A lot of his friends seemed to worry they would break him or some shit, but Eliot just accepted him and was never weird about sitting next to him on the couch or whatever. And apparently he told Margo I was cute, he thought smugly. He often reminded himself of Margo’s offhand comment when she met him, how “he wasn’t that cute.” Especially when he looked in the mirror and felt like he was about as attractive as a raw potato. Because (a) that meant that Eliot had told his best friend that he was cute before bringing her to meet him, and (b) that meant that he was cute, even by Margo standards.So it was easy to pretend he was in love with Eliot. But it was also hard to make sure that it firmly remained in the world of pretend.





	Lemonade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kickassfu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickassfu/gifts).



They were all out on the back porch that afternoon, Eliot and Quentin sharing the swinging loveseat and smoking cigarettes with glasses of lemonade as Monica and Rebecca were inspecting their hanging flower baskets to see if some bug or another had left after they applied a vinegar solution. Or maybe it was a saltwater solution. Honey water? Quentin wasn’t really paying attention, because Eliot was humming with his head leaned back, looking like goddamn Adonis against the sunlight, and Q’s hand was twitching with the desire to reach up and just run his finger against that fucking impossibly perfect jawline.

_ I didn’t think this would be so easy,  _ Quentin thought.  _ While at the same time being so difficult.  _

El and him had always had a relationship with a lot of casual touch, which Q appreciated. A lot of his friends seemed to worry they would break him or some shit, but Eliot just accepted him and was never weird about sitting next to him on the couch or whatever.  _ And apparently he told Margo I was cute,  _ he thought smugly. He often reminded himself of Margo’s offhand comment when she met him, how “he wasn’t  _ that  _ cute.” Especially when he looked in the mirror and felt like he was about as attractive as a raw potato. Because (a) that meant that Eliot had told his best friend that he was cute before bringing her to meet him, and (b) that meant that he  _ was _ cute, even by Margo standards.

So it was easy to pretend he was in love with Eliot. But it was also hard to make sure that it firmly remained in the world of pretend. Thankfully, Monica chose that moment to look at them, so Quentin seized the opportunity to reach up and run his hand through Eliot’s hair.

Eliot looked over at him, quizzically. 

“There might have been a bee” Q said, smiling and unapologetic.

“Might have been?” Eliot asked, eyebrow raised.

“Mhmm. A bee very well may or may not have been near your head” Quentin replied, nodding solemnly.

“Well,” Eliot said, turning towards him, and putting his arm around Q’s back. “There is a high likelihood that you may or may not have a smudge on your cheek.” Reaching out with his other hand, Eliot ran his finger softly against Quentin’s face, causing Q to catch his breath.

They stared at each other, shifting closer and closer, and then...

“Okay you two lovebirds” Monica broke in, chiding. “Let’s return to the land where you both remember that there are other people right here.”

Q cleared his throat and shook his head, and Eliot looked down and away, smiling softly.

\--

Eliot’s nerves were fucking thrumming. Raw. The look on Q’s face right before that annoying bitch spoke was something Eliot had only imagined seeing Quentin give him. It was so, just so fucking….  _ Hot.  _ Eliot admitted to himself.  _ It was hot. Apparently Quentin can be hot as well as cute.  _ He turned to grab some of his lemonade, needing a pause to remind himself that he was just helping a friend out, here. And getting some new stories to share with Margo.

_ That’s it! _ El thought,  _ I just need to call Margo. She’ll help sort this out. Remind me why I’m here. _

He shot her a text with their code word “Ibiza” and knew that soon she would call with some kind of an emergency that he just had to excuse himself to deal with.

Sure enough, less than a minute later his phone rang.

“Hi Bambi, what is up?” He said, pretending to be surprised at her call.

“Eliot!!” Margo screamed dramatically. “I am having simply the worst emergency that can only be fixed by a conversation of a convenient length with you!!!”

Eliot gasped “NOT AUNT KAITLYN!!!” He shouted loudly. Turning to face a Quentin who was eyeing him suspiciously, and Monica who was just eyeing him in general, Eliot said in an aside “excuse me, I just have to step away to take this call.”

Getting up he held the phone to his ear. 

“Aunt Kaitlyn and Uncle Anthony” Margo said theatrically.

“AUNT KAITLYN AND UNCLE ANTHONY?!?!” Eliot called out, walking swiftly away. “Heavens above!” 

\--

Quentin looked after Eliot, confused. Then he remembered the conversation he had with El and Margo right after he moved in to the cottage. “Aunt Kaitlyn” was code for “Margo and I need to talk, we’re leaving now, cover for us” when there were people around that El and Bambi wouldn’t just tell to fuck off. Namely, when Fogg stopped by and they got sick of him. Sometimes they needed a wingman. And Q was it, they fired Todd as soon as Quentin moved in. 

Rebecca and Monica were both looking at him, and Quentin shrugged. 

“Eliot just can’t miss the call when it is about Aunt Kaitlyn” he explained. “It’s Margo’s aunt, and ah, she and El got close after Eliot moved to the area.”

Monica didn’t look satisfied, “well, I still think it is rude.” She huffed.

“Why?” Quentin asked, sarcastically, his temper flaring. “Were you about to stop examining your flowers and tell El and me that we had your blessing if we were interested in pursuing holy matrimony?”

Rebecca giggled, and when Monica turned to glare, she half heartedly turned it into a cough. 

\--

“Holy fuck, Bambi” Eliot bit out as soon as he was a safe distance away. “I’m in deep shit and I need you.”

Margo laughed. “Let me guess, you stared too deeply into your nerd’s eyes and over the course of 48 hours you’ve fallen madly in love?” She said.

“Well, actually…” Eliot replied, sheepishly.

“HOLY FUCK, ELIOT” Margo screeched. “You caught real feelings? I thought you were just ovary-ing up and being there for a friend.”

“That’s the thing” Eliot said, exasperated. “I don’t know what is going on. He is really pretty and kind and his mom is a bitch and seeing what he went through, like, so much of how he is makes sense now. And ah, we’re obviously a little handsy because we’re ‘dating’ and all, and just, lines are starting to blur, babe. I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you want to suck his cock?” Margo asked, blunt as always. 

“I mean, yeah” Eliot said, “but I think I also want to…” he looked around, making sure no one could see or hear him. “I kind of want to kiss him. Slowly. Even if we don’t fuck.” He admitted.

“Well, then make sure he feels the same way and do both” Margo concluded logically. 

“Bambi! You are supposed to be talking me out of this” Eliot said, “not encouraging fellatio and make out sessions.”

“Eliot, my dear” Maro replied. “It’s me. It’s you. It’s fucking Quentin. Grow a pair of tits, find out if he wants to kiss you, too, and then, if he does, you know, suck his soul out through his dick. Or his lips. Whatever. Problem solved.” 

\--

Eliot looked different when he came back from talking on the phone, but Quentin didn’t think much about it. Rebecca had decided they were going out for dinner, and they only had an hour to get ready, so Quentin rushed over to let El know, figuring he might lose his shit with only having that much time to fix his hair and decide on his outfit, but Eliot looked almost relieved at the news. The women had already gone inside to start getting ready, so El and Q went to their room as well.

It took Quentin about five minutes to get to the level of ready he was okay with, basically, he changed out his blue jeans for black ones and put on a button down that wasn’t plaid and called it good.

It took El another twenty minutes to decide on what to wear and get into the outfit. Quentin was fucking around on his phone doing his best not to watch as Eliot kept changing clothes.

But eventually, Eliot looked perfect.

“That’s what you are gonna wear?” Eliot asked, turning and sounding resigned. 

“Um, yeah, do I look bad?” Quentin asked. He went over to the mirror and checked, but no stains stood out and he hadn’t splotched any toothpaste. 

“Of course you don’t look bad” Eliot said. “You’re goddamn fucking adorable. But, just come here.” Eliot tugged Quentin over.

“What are you doing?” Q asked.

“Just sit here.” Eliot said, exasperated. “I’m going to  _ at least  _ fix your hair.”

Quentin sat, struck dumb. “Uh, okay.” He replied weakly.

\--

_ What the fuck are you doing?  _ Eliot asked himself.  _ What I’ve wanted to fucking do since this goddamn nerd walked onto campus.  _ He admitted silently.

Slowly he brushed out Quentin’s hair and then carefully pulled it back into a messy bun. 

“Sometimes it is nice to actually see your face” he said, by way of explanation. “See? Look.” He turned Quentin around so he could see himself in the mirror.

“ ‘Snice” Quentin mumbled. “Thanks. I think I’ll wear it like this more often.”

Eliot smiled. Then, he reached for the smaller man. 

“Hey Q?” He asked, tentatively.

Quentin looked up at him and Eliot felt heat just pool in his stomach.

Unable to help himself he cupped his hand around Quentin’s neck. He tried to think of a good way to tell Quentin he wanted to kiss him senseless. “There might be a bee on your lips.” He said idiotically.

Quentin flushed and smiled. “Well, you better check.” Standing on his tiptoes he reached up as Eliot slightly bent down and their lips touched. El coaxed Q’s mouth open and Quentin responded quickly.

Q tasted like lemonade mixed with adorable hot cute nerd, and Eliot decided that combination was his favorite thing. Then he stopped thinking and just  _ felt. _


End file.
